


Not Quite According to Plan

by Somniare



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Between series 6 and 7, Dating, First Kiss, M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis took another drink before he spoke again.  “The good doctor is worried about your personal happiness.”</p><p>James blinked in surprise.  “My personal happiness?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/gifts).



> Based on MistressKat's prompt in the Lewis Challenge Valentine’s Weekend Love Spectacular 2014. Yes, it’s a bit late. Sorry. Life and all that...
> 
> With many thanks to my BRs. There has been tinkering. All errors, typos, and misplaced punctuation marks are mine.

. 

.  
“And I’m telling you, you’ll never get him to go along with that.  I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.”

  
Lewis’s ‘I’m trying to be patient’ voice stopped James, coffees and bagged pastries in hand, a few feet from the office door.  He could see part of the front edge of Lewis’s desk, but could see neither Lewis nor whoever he was talking to.  He could, of course, have been on the phone.  Whoever he was talking to, it was obvious they’d pushed the wrong buttons.  Innocent?  No, more likely to be Peterson.  James’s jaw dropped when a second voice drifted through.  
  
“This isn’t a whim.”  The voice was firm but kind.  “I’ve given it a great deal of thought and really think it might help.”  
  
 _Laura?_  
  
“Aye, but–”  
  
“Are you saying James doesn’t deserve a chance?”  
  
 _Me? A chance at what?  Not Innocent’s promotion agenda; she knows better._   He concentrated on Lewis’s answer.  
  
“No.  God knows the lad deserves it, but... there’s got to be another way.”  To anyone else, Lewis would have simply sounded frustrated.  James suspected he was the only one who would have heard the note of sadness.  
  
 _What_ are _they talking about?_  
  
“D’you have a better idea?”  He pictured Laura with hands on hips, giving Lewis the stare she reserved for new interns who questioned her teaching.  
  
“I... no, not really.  Look, you don’t even know if he wants help.”  There was a heavy creak, a sound James knew well.  Lewis had pushed himself back in his chair, signalling ‘end of topic’ as far as he was concerned.  Most people would have taken the hint, mumbled an apology, and left; however, this was Laura.  
  
“I’m not going to railroad him into anything, Robbie.  If he tells me to bugger off, I will.”  
  
“Only until you see another opportunity.”  
  
“Robbie!”  Laura sounded genuinely hurt.  “I only want what’s best for James.”  
  
“As do I, but don’t you think he might know what that is himself?”  
  
“Do you?”  
  
James decided enough was enough.  He gave himself a shake and stepped briskly into the office.  
  
“Sorry, sir, there was a bit of a–  Good morning, Dr Hobson.”  
  
“James.”  Laura smiled brightly.  “Just the person I was hoping to see.”  
  
“Oh?”  James glanced at Lewis, who was staring at Laura.  
  
“Laura.”  Lewis’s warning was only thinly veiled by exasperation.  
  
“But perhaps not right now.”  She glanced at Lewis.  “Well, must dash.”  She waggled her fingers in a wave and disappeared out the door.  
  
James very deliberately put Lewis’s coffee in the centre of the clear space on his desk, and laid one of the small paper bags beside it with care.  He then stood silently opposite Lewis and waited.  
  
“How much did you hear?” Lewis said with a resigned huff.  
  
James told him.  
  
“Right.”  Lewis grimaced and took a mouthful of coffee.  “Good, that.”  
  
“Sir.  Please,” James murmured.  
  
Lewis glanced up at James without moving his head.  “Shut the door and sit down, James,” he said kindly.  “You’re making the place look untidy.”  
  
James snorted softly.  He took the visitor’s chair from its place behind the door, closing the door with his other hand.  He positioned the chair at the side of Lewis’s desk, lowered himself into it and leant against the smooth surface.  
  
Lewis took another drink before he spoke again.  “The good doctor is worried about your personal happiness.”  
  
James blinked in surprise.  “My personal happiness?”  
  
Lewis nodded.  “More specifically, your relationship status.”  James’s head dropped sharply and he didn’t try to stop the small groan.  “Told her you’d probably feel that way.”  James’s head popped up when Lewis briefly squeezed his hand.  “She says I’m a big lad and can sort meself out, but she’s convinced you need to be taken in hand.  So to speak.”  
  
James’s eyes widened and he felt the colour leave his face.  “But she’s... forgive me if this is... erm, painful... but, I thought she was seeing Franco again?”  
  
Lewis waved away James’s concerns.  “Aye, she is, and I wish them both the best – I’ve told you, me and her, we’re better off as friends – but I don’t–  Oh.”  Lewis appraised James carefully.  “You think I meant you and... her?”  
  
“You didn’t?”  
  
“No.”  James flopped back in the chair, the impact forcing his breath out in a gust.  Lewis chuckled.  “So, don’t you like Laura, then?”  
  
“I– what?  No.  Not that way.  I think she’s a lovely person, and I always assumed you two would... one day...  I... I mean, she’s... I think she’s attractive but–”  James stuttered to a halt when Lewis started laughing again.  
  
“You’re havering, man.  It’s okay to say you think she’s too old for you.”  
  
James blinked rapidly.  “Age doesn’t come into it.  It’s the least of my considerations.”  
  
“Oh?  Then what would be the problem, aside from Franco?  She thinks you’re dishy, you think she’s attractive–”  
  
 _Uh uh.  No, no, no, no, no._   “So what _was_ the good doctor proposing?”  James rapidly steered the conversation back on track.  Though he would’ve preferred to end the whole discussion there and then, he wanted to know what Laura had intended so he could avoid it.  After all, forewarned was forearmed.  
  
“Sorry, James, I shouldn’t make a joke of it.  God knows, it’s not exactly a laughing matter.”  Lewis concentrated on unwrapping the pastry James had bought him.  “Laura’s got this ‘friend’ she feels would be a good match for you.  Actually, from the sound of it, she’s got several friends who might be suitable, and she’s in a mood to play matchmaker.”  
  
James groaned again and covered his eyes with one hand.  
  
“Yeah.  That was my first reaction, too, lad.”  James peeked at him through his fingers.  “And I don’t think she’s going to let go of the idea in a hurry.  Laura says she won’t push you, but you and I both know she can be very persuasive.”  
  
James nodded, and then stared up at the ceiling.  Persuasive _and_ persistent, he thought with some trepidation.  
.  
.  
.  
James quickly decided he would give Laura a polite but firm ‘no, thank you’ when she raised the topic.  He saw no point in going into any explanations, and he wasn’t prepared to give voice to his reasons for choosing to remain single anyway.  Feeling quite at peace with his decision, he felt like a complete idiot when, later that morning, he found himself taking the long way around to the car park for a smoke after he spotted Laura talking to DI Laxton in the corridor.  When he sent Julie over to the morgue to pick up some requested files, it hit him.  _Bloody hell!_   He was actually hiding from Laura.  That was unacceptable.  It wasn’t as though she was planning on asking him to do something dangerous or illegal.  
  
There was really only one thing to do.  
.  
.  
.  
After spending most of the day trawling through files Lewis needed to stretch his legs, so when James said he was going out for a cigarette Lewis also left the office.  He decided a walk around the block suited his purpose, and it would give him an opportunity to stop in and see Laura on his way back.  Perhaps he could still convince her to leave James to his own devices.  He certainly didn’t expect to find Laura and James in earnest discussion.  Neither noticed him appear in the doorway.  He raised his hand to knock on the doorframe and froze at the look of surprise on Laura’s face in response to whatever James had said.  
  
“Really?”  Laura sounded like the cat who’d got the cream.  “You’re willing to give it a go?”   
  
As quietly as possible, Lewis stepped to one side to listen.  He told himself it wasn’t eavesdropping; he was simply looking out for James’s best interests.  
  
“I am.  So tell me – who did you have in mind?”  By the calmness of James’s reply, Lewis understood James had sought out Laura.  ‘Why?’ was what Lewis wanted to shout, but he had to accept James was the master of his own fate.  All Lewis could do now was be there to support him, and trust Laura to do the right thing by him.  
  
“Some are acquaintances, some I’ve worked with, others I’ve met through Franco.”  
  
“Exactly how many dates were you planning?”  There was an edge of uncertainty in James’s voice now.  
  
“As many as it takes.”  
  
“I’ll agree to five.”  
  
“Five?”  Laura sounded disappointed.  
  
“Five.”  
  
“Fair enough.”  Lewis heard a chair scrape against the floor, and then Laura spoke again.  “I probably shouldn’t ask this, but why?”  
  
“Why five?”  
  
“Why are you willing to do this?”  
  
 _Yes, James, why?_  
  
James didn’t give an answer.  “You know my roster.  I’ll await the details of the first date.  Good afternoon, doctor.”  
  
Lewis quickly made his way back to the office.  He didn’t want James to know he knew, and trusted James to tell him in his own time.  
.  
.  
.  
James had been back in the office twenty minutes when his phone signalled an incoming message.  Lewis watched him out of the corner of his eye.  If the raised eyebrows were any indication, Laura had wasted no time setting up the first date.  
  
“Everything all right?” Lewis asked.  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“You looked surprised.”  
  
“I, er...”  James sighed and was suddenly fascinated by the fraying corner of his mouse pad.  “I saw Laura earlier.  I’ve agreed to let her set me up on five blind dates.  But I think you know that already.”  
  
Lewis felt his face flush at being caught out, and wondered what had given him away.  “I... may have overheard something.  How...?”  
  
“I saw your reflection in Laura’s monitor.  It was just a second but I knew it was you.”  
  
“Always knew you were observant.  Sorry.  I didn’t follow you, if that’s what you’re wondering.  I’d gone down in the hope of putting Laura off the idea for good.”  
  
James gave a shrug which said he understood and wasn’t angry.  “I was going to tell you.  I was waiting for this.”  He showed his phone display to Lewis.  “Details of the first date; I didn’t expect them so soon.”  
  
“Why?”  Lewis was surprised by how much he needed to hear the answer to that question.  “You could have said no.”  
  
For a moment, James looked as though he was going to withdraw and change the subject.  
  
“It’s a bit daft really,” he finally said with a small huff.  “My first response was a straight ‘no’, but then I realised I was unconsciously avoiding her.”  Lewis bit back a laugh when James explained his reaction to seeing her in the corridor.  “I felt... not stupid, cowardly.  I reasoned it wasn’t going to kill me to go on a few dates – okay, maybe a little – but it’d make Laura happy, and once she saw it was a waste of time...”  He trailed off with a half-shrug.  
  
 _You really are my awkward sod, aren’t you,_ Lewis thought.  “You’d really put yourself through that to make Laura happy?”  James nodded.  “You sure you’re not just a little bit sweet on her?”  
  
James’s scowl lost its impact as he turned a rather endearing shade of pink.  
.  
.  
.  
Lewis was distracted by his own thoughts for the remainder of the afternoon.  He was the one who’d told James he needed a partner, and he should be happy James was at least making a token effort, even if it was at Laura’s instigation.  But that had been months ago, and since uttering those words Lewis had wished several times he could take them back.  He still wanted James to find a partner, but he wanted that person to be him.  
  
The discovery had been a shock, even more so because it came to him when he was visiting Val’s grave a few days after that fateful chat.  He’d been telling Val what he’d said to James when her voice came to him.  They’d only once talked about what Val might do if anything had ever happened to him in the line of duty.  He’d told her, if she met someone who made her happy, who gave her joy, she was to take the chance.  “I’ll be gone” he’d said, “but you shouldn’t remain alone just because of that.”  He’d wanted her to be happy, and not live in misery and darkness as he’d witnessed some other police widows doing.  He’d recalled her response many times since she’d passed.  
  
“That works both ways, Robert Lewis,” she’d said, kissing him.  Then she’d quoted a poem from her father’s funeral.  “ _Remember the love that was once shared.  Miss me, but let me go._   Whoever you find, woman or man, if they bring you half of what you’ve given to me, let me go, and be with them.”  
  
When it had become evident that he and Val were meant to be together, Lewis had told her the truth about himself.  Completely terrified of how she’d respond, he’d explained he was attracted to both women in general, and men, and had been since his early teenage years.  But not all men, he’d clarified, specifically two, with both of whom he’d shared short-lived, but no less meaningful for it, relationships.  Newcastle in the seventies was not a place to be ‘different’ and Lewis had been ever thankful he’d met Val when he had.  They’d been soul mates and he’d never looked at another person in the same way – until that moment.  
  
Standing in the cemetery that day, as the light slowly faded, Lewis would have sworn he’d heard Val say, “why can’t you be James’s partner?  Who else knows you as well as he does?”  In his mind Lewis had started to answer “Laura”, but he knew it wasn’t true.  Granted, he and James didn’t know everything about each other, but they didn’t need to.  What he had with James was instinctive.  They could finish each other’s thoughts, read each other’s unspoken questions and directions.  Lewis had always thought you only had one soul mate.  Perhaps that was meant to be ‘one at a time’.  
  
“Get a grip, man,” he’d scolded himself.  It was one thing to recognise what you felt for someone, and another matter altogether to act on those feelings.  Quite apart from the fact he wasn’t entirely sure of James’s sexuality, and whether or not he’d entertain advances from a man, particularly one old enough to be his father, he was James’s boss, his supervisor and superior.  The minefield had seemed endless.  
  
Now he wondered if that was really so.  With the first date now a reality, was he too late to say or do anything?  What if James met someone and the attraction was mutual?  Angry at himself for being – what?  Slow?  Over-cautious?  Foolish? – Lewis attacked the budget report with renewed vigour, and tried to ignore James’s curious gaze.

 


	2. Not According To Plan

An early morning meeting meant Lewis didn’t arrive at the office until close to ten on the morning after James’s first date.  He was dreading hearing the outcome, of discovering James planned to see this woman, whoever she was, again, and had barely touched the food offered at the meeting, prompting concerned questions from Innocent as to his health.  He couldn’t remember what he’d told her but she’d seemed satisfied with his response and had dropped the subject.  
  
He nearly ran straight into Laura as she was leaving the office.  
  
“Oh, sorry, Robbie, I wasn’t looking.”  She looked disappointed.  
  
 _That’s a good sign, isn’t it?_ “Everything okay?” he said aloud.  
  
“Ask your other half.”  She sighed and gave a half-smile.  “Coffee later?”  
  
“Aye.  Give me a call when you want to go.”  And Laura was gone.  
  
James was leaning against the doorframe looking chastised.  
  
Lewis raised an eyebrow and there was a flutter in his chest.  
  
“Date not go so well?”  He hoped he didn’t sound too relieved.  
  
James shook his head.  “I wasn’t going to say anything, but Laura had called her this morning to see how things went.  The verdict is in, and I won’t be seeing her again.”  
  
“Is Laura blaming you?”  Lewis might not be happy with the situation, but heaven help Laura if she gave James a hard time about it.  
  
James pushed himself upright and headed for his desk.  “Not blaming me, no, though she thinks I could have ‘done better’, somehow salvaged the night and a possible second date.”  
  
“What?”  
  
James dropped into his chair.  “Her name was Liv.  No, not that one,” he added hastily.  
  
Lewis’s chest had tightened briefly at the name and it must have shown on his face.  There’d been some chemistry with Liv Nash, and Lewis had wondered several times if James had ever looked her up again.  
  
“This Liv teaches music composition, so that was interesting, and dinner itself went quite well... until she excused herself to go...  well.”  James chewed his bottom lip.  
  
Lewis closed the door and sat on the edge of the desk.  Had she run out on James?  No wonder he was hesitant if that was the case, but surely Laura wouldn’t hold that against him?  He gave James a look of encouragement to continue.  
  
James rocked back in his chair, exhaling heavily.  “She stood up as though someone had stuck a pin in her, and sent her chair flying into the elbow of the waiter behind her.  That sent a tray of cocktails over the adjacent table, missing the patrons but completely ruining their food.  Understandably, she was a bit upset, then she fled, which I wasn’t expecting, leaving me to apologise and offer assistance.”  
  
“What does Laura think you could have done?”  
  
“Apparently I should have chased after her and made sure she was all right.”  
  
“She’s got a point.”  James wasn’t one to abandon someone in distress.  
  
“As I explained to Laura, I did.  But Liv was nowhere in sight when I made it to the street.  It was go searching and risk being arrested later on for doing a runner myself, or go back inside and pay the bill.  What would you have done?”  
  
“Paid the bill and called her?  This Liv, not Laura.”  
  
“I tried.  The call didn’t connect.  I can only assume she’d switched her phone off, and before you say anything, I did try calling Laura.  It went to voicemail and I left a message; it’s probably why Laura called Liv.”  
  
“Well then, seems to me you did all you could.”  
  
“Laura would disagree.”  
  
“Look on the bright side.”  
  
“There’s a bright side?” James queried flatly.  
  
“Maybe Laura will decide it was a bad idea and spare you dates two through five.”  
  
James humphed and held up a small piece of paper.  “Name, time, place, mobile number... and an alternate contact.  Laura doesn’t let one little setback deter her, nor does she let the grass grow under her feet.”  
  
“Oh.”

 


	3. Unexpected Outcome

James pulled into the car park to see Lewis and Laura talking on the steps.  From the smile she flashed in his direction, James wondered if she’d been talking about him.  When Lewis looked his way and waved, James relaxed.  Had he been the topic of discussion it would have shown in Lewis’s face.  Gossip about James, even from Laura, was something Lewis didn’t tolerate, and for that James was grateful.  
  
James fiddled about with the contents of the glove-box until Laura disappeared inside the building, and then he joined Lewis who’d waited for him.   
  
“Something happen I need to know about, James?”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Laura completely lost track of what she was telling me when she saw you.  Last time she did something like that was when I told her I was going to be a grand-dad.”  
  
“I can assure you, sir, I have no plans to extend my bloodline now or in the future.”  
  
“Fair enough.  Let’s get to work then.”  
  
 _Fair enough?_   It wasn’t quite the response James would have expected, but as it didn’t require him to explain any further he was happy to let it lie.  
.  
.  
.  
Lewis didn’t mention Laura’s distraction again until later that afternoon.  They’d been called out to a suspicious death at Chaucer College and arrived to find Laura and her team already packing up.  Once again she smiled fondly at James, and Lewis had to ask her twice what the situation was.  
  
“Are you all right, Laura?  That’s twice today you–”  
  
“Fine.  I’m fine.  Sorry, woolgathering.”  She gave a small shake of her head.  “Erm.  It’s definitely suicide; there were witnesses.  They’re over there.”  Laura pointed towards the ambulance.  “I’ll run full blood and toxicology tests, but I’m doubtful of finding anything untoward.”  
  
“Okay, thanks.”  Laura followed the stretcher from the scene, but not before giving James’s arm a gentle squeeze.  
  
“Right,” Lewis began as they got back into the car.  “What on earth have you done to Laura?”  
  
James’s silence continued long enough for Lewis to suspect he wasn’t going to get any answers.  Then James tipped his head back against the car seat.  
  
“My second date didn’t go as Laura had probably intended, but on the plus side, I may have redeemed myself for my ‘failure’ on the first date.”  
  
“How’d you manage that then?”  A part of Lewis knew he had no place to ask, and James was well within rights to tell him to sod off, but he wanted to know.  
  
“We went to O’Neill’s.  Megan’s brother was playing – Megan was my date, by the way.”  
  
“I guessed that.  Go on.  O’Neill’s.  Live music – that’s your sort of thing.”  
  
“It is, and I enjoyed it.  When the band took a break, a group of people made their way over to where we were sitting.  Megan explained they were followers of the band and turned up at most gigs.”  
  
“Safety in numbers, for her, for Megan, d’you think?”  
  
James shook his head.  “I got the impression she was usually part of the group.  It didn’t feel like a date then, more that I’d been invited to tag along on a regular night out.”  
  
“Ouch.”  
  
“I didn’t really mind.  Everyone was welcoming, except for one bloke who was a bit standoffish.  I figured out pretty quickly he was attracted to Megan and saw me as a rival.”  
  
“Not the best spot to be in.”  
  
“Not normally.”  
  
“How so?”  
  
“I can discern a motive for murder.  I can usually sense if a situation’s going to turn violent.  However, I’m generally pretty crap at figuring out how people feel about each other.  This time, though, I was confident the feeling between the two of them was mutual and they might just need a push.”  
  
“You turning into a matchmaker now?”  
  
“Hardly,” James replied dryly.  “Simply enabling.  When Megan went to the loo, I fumbled with my phone, pretended to read a message and swore a bit.  I told Evan, this bloke, I was a police officer and had to go, and could he give my apologies to Megan and see her home safely.  I don’t think he believed me, about the message, that is, but he shook my hand and said ‘thanks’.”  
  
“You did a runner on your date and Laura’s happy about that?”  
  
James grinned broadly.  “Turns out I was right.  Laura told me this morning she’d had a text from Megan to apologise to me because she’d agreed to the date under false pretences – she had hoped to make Evan jealous enough to make a move, and it worked.  Laura’s annoyed with Megan, but she was more concerned about me and whether or not I was upset.”  
  
“What did you tell her?”  
  
“If I in some way helped Megan find happiness then what was there to be upset about?” James replied in a mock wistful tone.  “I wasn’t the one for her.”  
  
Lewis snorted.  “Never really took you for the romantic type.”  
  
“Sir!  You wound me.”  Though James’s voice was aggrieved, it was in sharp contrast to the mischief in his eyes.  
  
“Oh, I see.  Laura fell for it though, did she?  No wonder she’s givin’ you those looks.  She’s got you down as a knight in shining armour.”  
  
James started the car.  “I believe the word ‘chivalrous’ may have been used.”  
  
 _Whatever may have been used, lad_ , Lewis thought, _I’m glad this Megan wasn’t for you_.  He tsked at his selfishness, drawing a concerned ‘Sir?’ from James.  
  
“S’nothing, James, just me being... s’nothing,” he responded.  Damn, he’d have to take more care.  Until he could find out if there was any possibility James could, would consider him, the last thing Lewis wanted was for James to know how he really felt.  
  
“If you say so.”  James gave him an enquiring glance but left it at that.

 


	4. Twist In The Tale

A series of vicious assaults on overseas tourists demanded all their attention over the next couple of weeks.  Before the perpetrator, a walking tours guide, was finally caught, a total of seven women had been hospitalised simply because they hadn’t worn sensible shoes and had, in the guide’s opinion, needlessly complained of the distances covered.  
  
“They got what was comin’ to ‘em, stupid cows,” he’d muttered, his RP accent consigned to a past life.  “Brochure’s clear.  It’s a five-k walk, flat shoes recommended.  They ‘arped on s’though it was my fault.  They weren’t ‘urt; wouldn’t’ve been dancin’ in clubs the same night if their feet was as bad as they bitched about.  I showed ‘em ‘urt.  They’re not dancin’ now.”  Not entirely unexpectedly, he was remanded pending a psychiatric assessment.  
  
Frustrated at the outcome, Lewis wanted nothing more than to spend that Friday night with James, sharing their usual post-case beer.  However, the case had forced Lewis to put off a long overdue trip to Lyn’s.  It was with a sense of regret he said goodbye to James in the station car park and started the drive north.  He glanced in the rear view mirror just before he pulled out onto the street only to see Laura approach James.  The change in James’s posture was subtle, but Lewis picked it up, a product of the easy familiarity he and James had, he supposed.  He had no doubt Laura had just delivered the details of date number three.

 

_________________________

 

They’d left the paperwork undone on Friday, meaning Monday was taken up with finishing reports and preparing the files for CPS.  Rechecking of data and forensic evidence led to James being in and out of the office, and Lewis’s regular commitments as a senior officer and team leader left little time for casual chatter.  Lewis had tried to pick up any visual clues from James’s demeanour, but James was a blank canvas.  Lewis had, however, managed to ask James to his flat for dinner that evening.  
.  
.  
.  
While Lewis was certain James had been given the details of date number three, he had no way of knowing if said date had taken place.  Laura was attending a conference in London, so ‘casually’ bumping into her had been out of the question, as was calling or texting her.  Not only was it none of his business, Laura would want to know why he was so eager to find out, and even if he didn’t tell her, he knew she would turn his interest over in her head until she came up with a plausible reason.  Lewis was more than a little concerned she’d reach the right conclusion.  
  
Dinner was a shepherd’s pie Lyn had frozen and packed for him.  Standing side by side at the kitchen worktop, James, appreciative of a home-cooked meal he didn’t have to cook, helped him prepare the vegetables.  If their arms brushed together a little more than necessary, James made no mention of it.  
  
With full bellies, and feeling pleasantly drowsy, they settled on the couch.  James flicked through the channels, stopping on a repeat of a David Attenborough-narrated documentary _._ These were the times Lewis liked best, just the two of them in comfortable silence, and he was going to possibly ruin it because of his damned curiosity.  
  
During an ad break, James retrieved the open bottle of wine from the kitchen, topping up both glasses before he sat down again.  Lewis decided it was now or never.  
  
“Has Laura given up?”  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“This date business.  Neither of you have mentioned it recently, so I wondered if Laura had given up on the idea.”  
  
James huffed softly.  “Have you ever known Laura to give up on anything?”  
  
“She gave up on me.”  
  
James looked at him with a mix of concern and disbelief.  “She didn’t give up on you.  Knowing when something isn’t going to work and accepting that isn’t giving up; it’s being... practical.”  
  
“Thanks for that,” Lewis muttered.  
  
“You know what I mean.”  James nudged him gently with his elbow.  “No, she hasn’t given up.  She was waiting ‘til things settled down a little.”  
  
“So she’s found you another date?”  
  
“I survived number three on Saturday, while you were being fed home-cooked meals and getting spoiled.”  
  
“Next time I go to Lyn’s, you’re coming with me.  Lyn’s idea of spoiling me is letting me finish my beer before getting me to do the dishes.”  Lewis was pleased to see James smile.  “A blind date could be a picnic in comparison.”  
  
“Only if you don’t let Laura choose.”  
  
“Not a match made in heaven, then?”  
  
“That’s one way to put it.  It was destined to fail from the outset; I recognised him the minute I saw him.”  
  
“Him?”  Lewis cringed at the rise in pitch in his voice.  
  
James gave him his ‘oh, c’mon, sir’ face.  “Please don’t act surprised for my sake.  I know you think you know, or at least you strongly believe I’m... that I don’t have a gender preference.”  
  
Lewis’s heart rate leapt up.  “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wondered,” he said softly.  
  
Ever since the McEwan case, he’d wondered.  After the Hawes case, he’d hoped.  But James had never given him anything concrete – until now.  
  
“But Laura knew?”  _How?  How could she know for certain and I didn’t?_  James shook his head, dispelling some of Lewis’s self-doubt.  
  
“After the last date she asked me straight up.  ‘I’ve only been considering the women I know.  Have I been making an assumption I shouldn’t?’”  
  
Words tumbled over each other in Lewis’s mind as he tried to decide on the safest response.  James spared him by continuing.  
  
“If she’d asked me that at the beginning of this business, I think I’d’ve said ‘no’.  But...”  James studied his drink for a moment before putting the untouched glass on the table.  He sank further into the couch, automatically pressing his leg harder against Lewis’s.  “She looked so... worried that she’d made a monumental faux pas that I couldn’t lie to her.”  
  
Lewis took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on James’s glass.  “So, you’re... bisexual?”  He tensed as he waited for James’s response, which could be anything from silence to a snapped reply, or for James to make an excuse and leave.  It was an understatement to consider this sensitive ground.  
  
“I don’t like labels.”  James spoke with great care.  “But if I were obliged to wear one, that’s the one I’m least uncomfortable with.”  
  
Lewis was sure he felt his heart start again.  He took another tentative step.  “So how do you define–”  
  
“I don’t,” James replied quietly.  “It gets... complicated.”  
  
“Right.”  Lewis instinctively understood it wasn’t a closed topic, but it wasn’t one he could raise.  He was a patient man.  “So... what happened?”  
  
“If I’d recognised the name when Laura told me, had the slightest clue it was him, I wouldn’t have agreed to the date.  He was in the year above me at school.  But he was Richard Harrison then, not Fredericks.  He clearly recognised me; in fact, he looked delighted to see me.  That was a little unsettling.”  
  
“Did you know he...”  Lewis waved one hand in aimless circles.  
  
The corner of James’s mouth twitched upwards.  “Preferred men?  No.  Well, not for certain.”  James exhaled sharply.  “He basically admitted he’d agreed to Laura’s proposal because he wondered if she was referring to me.”  
  
“How’d Laura know him?”  Lewis barely stopped himself slapping a hand across his mouth for interrupting James again.  “Sorry.  I shouldn’t be asking you a load of questions.”  
  
“S’okay.”  Unexpectedly, James patted Lewis’s knee.  “She was his relief pathology supervisor at the JR when McGovern took his sabbatical.”  
  
“That was three years ago.”  Lewis remembered a very rough six months when Laura was torn between police work and the hospital, often pulling double shifts.  This Richard bloke must have made some impression for her to keep in touch.  
  
“Harrison, erm, Fredericks – whichever – was very charismatic at school as well,” James remarked dryly.  
  
 _No love lost there, clearly_.  “So he was... keen to see you?”  
  
“Evidently... and the first thing out of my bloody mouth was, ‘you’ve changed your name.’  I could have kicked myself.  I sounded every inch the interrogative police officer.”  
  
“But you’re so good at that.”  James rolled his eyes at Lewis, and then snorted a laugh.  “So what did he do?” Lewis prompted.  
  
“‘It’s not a crime,’ he said.  But he was hiding something, that much I could tell.  I made some sort of apology, which seemed to satisfy him, and then he spent the rest of the night talking about himself – his doctorate, his work, his travels, his partners – I barely got a word in.  He hadn’t changed a bit since school.”  
  
“So you’ll not be looking him up in a hurry?”  
  
“No.  Pompous twat.”  James recovered his glass and took a long drink.  “I called Laura on Sunday to let her know it didn’t work, and said I’d appreciate it if she could provide more details on any prospective partner before setting up any further dates.  Last thing I’d want is to be thrown face to face with someone from my Cambridge days, or worse, someone I’d nicked when I was in uniform.”  
  
“She agreed?”  
  
“She did, but not before she asked if...”  James fell silent and drained his glass.  
  
Lewis was almost certain it was a mistake, but he had to ask: “If... what?”  
  
Lewis felt the muscles in James’s body tighten where they pressed against him.  He waited to be told to mind his own business.  
  
“Bugger it,” James muttered, “she’ll probably ask you if you have any idea, so...  She wanted to know if I was being too ‘selective’ because... I already had someone in mind.  Someone I _was_ interested in.”  
  
Lewis wanted to ask, ‘and do you?’  Instead, he said, “Did you tell her to mind her own business?”  The irony of the question wasn’t lost on Lewis.  
  
The tension left James’s body.  “Not in so few words, sir.  There’re still two dates to go; she might’ve tried to hook me up with Peterson.”  
  
Lewis had just taken a large mouthful of shiraz, and the rest of the evening was spent getting the red wine stain out of the rug.  
.  
.  
.  
Lewis lay awake listening to James’s soft snores coming from the couch.  He’d had one question answered tonight – him being a man wouldn’t be an obstacle to James.  His age was still a factor, though; despite James’s earlier assertion that age was the least of his considerations, it was still on the agenda.  And now there was the question of whether or not there was someone James _was_ interested in.  He hadn’t given an answer, but his reluctance to left Lewis to think there was.  
  
Lewis sat up with a jolt and shook his head sharply.  _Hell!  His reaction when he thought I meant him and Laura getting together, his blushes when I teased him.  His... preparedness to go along with Laura’s, quite frankly, daft idea.  It’s Laura he’s keen on._ Well, Franco was a major spanner in the works there, and James wasn’t the sort who’d try to steal someone away.  _An’ Laura’s setting him up on these dates, none the wiser.  A right trio we make._  
  
Concluding there was little he could do now or in the near future, Lewis tried to push the whole sorry mess to the back of his mind, including his feelings for James.  Mates.  That was to be their lot, and Lewis regarded himself to be a rich man for having that.  All the gold in the world was a poor substitute for a true friend.

 


	5. The Unexpected Guest

There was a knock at the door.  The clock said 7.40pm and Lewis wondered who it could possibly be: Laura was away for the weekend with Franco, James was on his penultimate date, and he doubted Innocent would make a social visit on a Saturday evening, or at any time for that matter.  
  
Lewis opened the door to see James.  He was standing a foot or so back from the door, with his hands behind his back, looking a little uncertain and very much alone.  
  
“You on a date with the invisible woman?  Or is it man?” Lewis added hesitantly.  
  
“Ha bloody ha.  It was a woman, and I was stood up.”  
  
Robbie stepped back to let James in.  “She didn’t show?”  
  
“I waited at the bar for an hour, nursing a glass of wine and feeling like a complete twat.  I tried calling her twice but it jumped to voicemail both times.  I was just about to call Laura when she called me.”  
  
“Laura?”  
  
“My date.”  
  
“Everything okay?”  If something had happened to his date on the way to meet him, Lewis knew James would find a way to at least partially blame himself.  
  
James slumped against the kitchen worktop looking fed up.  “She said her dog had taken ill and she was going to have to take him to the vet.  I suppose it’s a slightly better excuse than ‘I have to wash my hair’, but I believe it carried the same amount of truth.”  
  
“You’re too young to be so cynical.”  
  
“Laura told me she lived in college.  No pets allowed.”  
  
“Ah.”  Lewis went to the fridge.  “Here.” He handed James a beer.  “You look like you need it.”  
  
“Thank you,” James said gratefully.  
  
Lewis waved him through to the living area.  
  
“So, what did you know about this one?”  
  
“Ella.  Twenty-nine.  Primary school teacher currently doing a postgrad in child development and education.”  He drained a third of his beer in a series of gulps before clinking the bottle against Lewis’s.  “Four down, one to go, then back to normal.  Cheers.”  
  
A thought suddenly occurred to Lewis.  “Have you eaten?  You won’t do yourself any favours gulping that down on an empty stomach.”  
  
James looked hard at the bottle in his hand before pulling his phone from his jacket pocket.  “Chinese or Indian?”  
  
“I’ve already–”  James had raised an eyebrow and was pointing toward the coffee table with the bottle.  Lewis didn’t have to look to see the open crisp packet, his ‘dinner’.  
  
He gave a small, embarrassed cough.  “I’ve food in the fridge.  Be quicker to make something, wouldn’t it?”  
  
“Quicker for _me_ to make something, you mean?”  There was no sting to James’s words, and the cheeky grin he gave Lewis as he walked back into the kitchen was warming.  
  
“Well, I could do egg and chips but I thought you might fancy something different,” Lewis offered.  
  
James was already looking in the fridge.  “Potato frittata,” he said decisively, as he began placing various items on the worktop.  “Like egg and chips but different.”  
.  
.  
.  
“Fancy watching this?”  Lewis handed James a DVD as they moved back to the couch after dinner.  “Lyn gave it to me on the last visit.  She said one of Tim’s aunts gave it to her but it wasn’t really her thing.”  
  
James looked warily at the cover.  “ _Gunther’s ER?_   I’ll be surprised if it’s your thing.  I’d say it was more up Laura’s street.”  
  
Lewis ignored the stab he felt at the mention of Laura’s name.  He wasn’t jealous.  It was ridiculous.  He and Laura... too much water under the bridge, and then there was Franco.  It wasn’t as though James was going to...  He coughed harshly to cover his hesitation.  
  
“Can’t hurt to give it a shot?”  
  
“It’s your telly.”  
  
“It’s never my telly when there’s something you really want to watch.”  
  
With a laugh, James took the DVD from the case and crossed the room.  Lewis opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses.  
.  
.  
.  
Lewis took in little of what was on the screen or of James’s comments.  Apart from his momentary wobble, it had been a lovely evening, just the sort of night he could get easily used to.  They’d made a good team in the kitchen, as before, and dinner had been on the table and eaten in under an hour.  He’d enjoyed the time they’d spent preparing their meal, standing close to each other, almost shoulder to shoulder.  A couple of times James had reached around him to grab one item or another, his chest brushing against Lewis’s back.  Lewis had foolishly told himself James was doing it on purpose, though he knew better.  They’d never had any real sense of personal space and for James to behave as he had held no greater meaning.  
  
Sitting side by side on the couch, legs pressed together from hip to knee, Lewis, who’d never been prone to daydreaming or fantasies, allowed himself to wish for a future where James was here, like this, every night.  But, he decided, if he couldn’t have that, he’d graciously accept and appreciate whatever they shared.  
  
A heavy weight on his lap signalled Monty’s appearance from whichever pocket he’d chosen to hide himself away in this time.  He smiled fondly as the cat sprawled himself across both his and James’s laps, stretching out and gently kneading James’s far leg, before rolling onto his side and exposing his belly.  
  
Lewis began to stroke Monty’s belly and found his fingers tangled with James’s.  
  
“Oops.  Sorry, lad.”   
  
James made no haste to move to disentangle them.  “No harm done,” he replied softly, giving Lewis’s fingers a light squeeze before moving up closer to Monty’s chin.  It was then Lewis noticed the telly was silent, making the unfolding scene even more bizarre.  
  
“What’s that about?”  He nodded towards the telly.  
  
“I wondered when you’d notice.  I asked you if you wanted another beer and you were miles away.”  
  
“How long?”  
  
“A good ten minutes ago.”  
  
 _Bloody hell._  
  
He couldn’t quite decipher James’s expression.  He wanted to call it ‘fond’.  
  
“Is everything okay?” James asked.  “I know we don’t ‘talk’ talk, but I’m here if you need someone to listen.  You know that, don’t you?”  
  
 _Ah, worry.  He’s worried about me._   “Aye, I think I do.  Works both ways you know?”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Lewis gently squeezed James’s arm.  “I’ll get those beers if you put something decent on to watch.  God knows what Lyn was thinking passing... _that_ on to me.”  
  
“ _Life on Mars_ good for you?”  
  
Lewis nodded and moved Monty to the empty seat, much to his disgust.  The two men then stood at the same time, bumping into each other awkwardly.  Lewis was spared from tumbling onto the coffee table by James’s quick reflexes, as his arm snaked around Lewis’s waist and held him upright.   
  
Only later would Lewis identify what he briefly saw in James’s eyes as he was held steady.  
.  
.  
.  
Two episodes and more than two beers later, James emitted such a heavy sigh that Lewis jumped.  
  
“Bloody hell, man!  What was that for?”  
  
James rolled his head lazily towards him.  His eyes were sleepy and his face should have been relaxed but his brow was creased.  
  
“I was just wondering if things would have gone differently if I’d given Laura some preferences, you know, given her something to work from.”  
  
 _Give me your preferences, lad.  Do I fit in?_  
  
“Apart from Dicky boy, they’ve all been a few years younger than me.  I don’t want someone my own age.  Shit–”  James rocked to one side, his shoulder pressing hard against Lewis’s. “– I’m not even my own age.”  
  
Lewis recalled James saying Laura’s age wasn’t a factor when he’d been teasing him.  What was James looking for?  Older, obviously, but how much older?  Did Lewis fall within the range?  
  
“I need someone who understands the way I think, that doesn’t expect... whatever it is thirty-somethings are expected to do.  I’m drunk, aren’t I.”  
  
“A wee bit.  You’re all right.”  Lewis raised a hand and clasped James’s shoulder.  He tilted his head so it lightly touched James’s, which was only an inch or two away.  The tiny sigh which escaped James’s lips was a surprise and Lewis nearly lost his train of thought.  
  
“For what it’s worth,” he managed to say, “I don’t know that it would have made much difference, telling Laura your preferences.  I’m not saying Laura would have ignored them – I’m sure she’d have done everything she could to accommodate you – it’s just... well...”  
  
“I would have expected ‘Mr Right’ only to meet ‘Mr Not Quite the One’.”  
  
“Somethin’ like that.”  _Not Mr or Ms.  Just Mr._  
  
James didn’t elaborate any further, and Lewis was too nervous to say anything more for fear his reaction, whatever was revealed, would give him away.  
  
James’s prolonged silence was soon explained by the first soft snores.  Lewis turned down the volume on the telly.  He was quite comfortable and in no hurry to break away from the warmth of James.  He’d give him an hour or so then get him set up on the couch for the night.  Monty wasted no time taking advantage of the situation.  
  
James woke with a start when Monty stretched and walked off his lap a while later.  He groaned quietly as he leant forward, rubbing his face with his hands.  Lewis turned off the telly and pushed himself up in the seat.  His back was going to niggle in the morning but it would be worth it.  James turned his head slightly, his chin resting in his cupped hands, and looked at Lewis.  He was thoughtful.  
  
“I’m not an unlikeable person, am I?”  
  
 _Where the hell did that come from?_ “No, of course you’re not.”  
  
“You were the one who said I should find a partner; do you _really_ think there’s someone out there for me?  I mean, look at me: I’m socially awkward, my head’s far older than the rest of me, I’ve no patience with my peer group and their interests.  Shit, I can’t even talk about football.”  
  
Experience told Lewis James wasn’t so drunk that he wouldn’t remember this conversation.  He knew what he wanted to say, but it was neither the time nor place.  He also knew he had to give James an answer that wouldn’t push his self-esteem lower than it was already threatening to go.  _Buggering hell, why’s it so blasted hard to talk about... this._ He took a slow, deep breath, and rested his hand over James’s.  “I did say that, and yes, I do think there’s someone.”  _Do you see me, James?  Really see me?_   “So what if you can’t talk about football.  There’re far more important things.”  
  
James humphed.  
  
“Look, if you’re expecting me to start ticking off all your good points on me fingers, then you’ve got the wrong person.  You need Laura for something like that.  But I will tell you this: for what it’s worth, you’re the best mate I’ve ever had, and if others can’t appreciate you for who you really are, then it’s their loss.”  
  
The trust and affection that filled James’s sleep-heavy eyes caused Lewis’s breath to catch in his throat.  
  
“Y’dopey sod,” he managed to whisper, more to himself than James, he hoped.  “It’s late an’ you’re knackered,” he said a little louder.  “Let’s get you sorted for the night.  No, you stay there.”  He pushed down on James’s thigh as James tried to rise unsteadily to his feet.  
  
“I need to pee,” James murmured, suddenly not meeting Lewis’s gaze.  
  
“Right.  Course you do.”  James’s change in mood caught Lewis off-guard.  “Up you get then.”  He stood and held out a hand to James who waved it away.  
  
“I’ll be okay.  Just need a minute.”  
  
“I’ll get the blankets and pillow, then,” Lewis managed to stammer out. __  
  
James was still in the bathroom when Lewis had finished making up the couch.  Lewis had heard the toilet flush minutes earlier and he hoped James was okay.  He knocked on the door.  
  
“Couch is ready.  I’m off.  G’night.”  
  
“Good night, sir.”  
  
James’s voice came from close behind the door.  _Is he waiting for me to go to bed?_   Lewis was baffled.  
  
Lewis closed the bedroom door and switched off the light.  He heard the bathroom door open, a skittering of paws, and James swearing softly.  Monty hated it when the door was closed and he didn’t have free and clear access to his litter tray.  He always made a mad dash to inspect everything was as it should be and would have bolted straight between James’s legs.  Lewis was used to it and had learnt to open the door and step back.  
  
The sounds of James settling down drifted through.  Lewis closed his eyes and attempted to sleep.  An impatient ‘meow’ and scratching at the door forced him out of bed.  
  
“You’re a bloody pest, d’you know that?” he whispered as he opened the door for Monty to come in.  The flat was in darkness, save for the soft glow of the various digital clocks around the place.  As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Lewis could just make out James’s stockinged feet resting on the arm of the couch.  The feet disappeared.  Perhaps James had turned onto his side.  Lewis really needed to consider a longer couch, or even a sofa bed.  
  
Lewis lay awake for some time.  He was missing something.  Why had James...?   _Oh._   The pieces fell into place.  When James’s date fell through, instead of going home to nurse his wounded pride – and James’s pride would have been wounded – he’d come straight to Lewis’s.  For a private person like James, that was significant.  Then there was the increased contact.  It wasn’t just tonight though, was it?  James had increasingly been making small gestures, actions Lewis had blindly lumped under the heading of ‘lack of personal space’.  And his eyes, dear God, his eyes.  ‘Gateway to the soul,’ isn’t that what they said?  The brief flicker in James’s eyes as he’d stopped Lewis from falling.  It was more than the concern of a friend – much, much more – and, later, the trust in Lewis he revealed in that look.  It was trust and raw affection, and something more, far deeper, far beyond anything he’d ever said.  _Christ!_   James had as good as told Lewis who he was looking for: someone older, who acknowledged his old soul, who expected nothing more of James except that he be James.  
  
Lewis knew he could quite possibly be horribly, potentially destructively, wrong, but everything was telling him he was the one by whom James had been measuring everyone else.  And if he’d been the measure did that mean James wanted... him?  Lewis took a deep breath to settle himself.  Though if that were the case, then why had James suddenly become distant when he did?  _Dopey sod?_  Was that it?  Did James think Lewis was calling him that because of what he’d revealed, telling him he was barking up the wrong tree?  Was that the impression Lewis had given him?    _Bugger._   Morning.  He could explain himself in the morning when they both had clearer heads.  
  
Lewis fell into a fitful sleep.  
.  
.  
.  
When Lewis woke in the morning, James had already gone.  The sheet and blanket were folded neatly on the couch, and Monty had claimed the pillow.  Lewis found a note on the kitchen worktop.  
  
 _Good morning.  Sorry to run.  Forgot I was supposed to be playing at Mass this morning.  See you Monday. J_  
  
He knew James had played during services in the past, but he hadn’t mentioned it for some time.  Not that that held any significance; James didn’t mention a great many things.  Lewis had no reason to believe James had made up an excuse to leave, though he couldn’t help wondering.  The ‘what-ifs’ spun around in his head.  
  
“Coffee,” he muttered, and set about getting breakfast for himself and Monty.  The everyday routine settled him.  
  
He didn’t think he was wrong about James’s feelings, he only wished he’d recognised them sooner.  He shook his head.  James was a master at keeping his thoughts carefully locked away.  Lewis, anyone for that matter, would only have seen what James wanted them to see.  If Mass was an excuse, Lewis’s best guess was James believed he’d overstepped and was anticipating some sort of fallout.  Lewis knew it would be futile to try to get James to talk – bloody hell, did they ever really talk?  However, if something wasn’t said they were probably going to dance around each other in circles forever.  
  
There had to be a way, even if Lewis couldn’t see it now.

 

_________________________

 

First thing Monday morning, James apologised again for disappearing without warning.  He had indeed left to play at Mass.  Apart from that, he made no mention of the evening they’d spent together, nor did he or Laura make any reference to the aborted date.  There was, however, the not-so-small matter of James’s behaviour.  He was a little stiffer, a little more formal, and, Lewis noticed with some dismay, very aware of where he placed himself in relation to Lewis.  The reactions of others, including Laura and Innocent, told Lewis that, to the world at large, or at least within the station, nothing had changed.  But Lewis understood.  James _had_ revealed more than intended, and this was his way of minimising the ‘damage’, even though no harm was caused or offence given.  Talking it over with anyone was out of the question.  There was a way for them to get past this, of that Lewis was certain, and he was confident he’d know it when the time came.  For now, he concentrated on maintaining the status quo.  Things were at least comfortable, if not quite the way he wanted, and he was grateful for that.

 


	6. What Robbie Did Next

James turned up early at the restaurant and waited a short way up the road, as agreed.  One more date and it was over.  Laura would have had her ‘experiment’, he’d be able to say he’d tried, and, hopefully, things would gradually get back to normal.  Lewis hadn’t spoken about _that_ night, and James had worked hard to ensure he did nothing further to put their friendship, or their partnership, at risk.  He couldn’t quite remember everything he’d said or done that night, an unusual and unsettling occurrence for him.  He did remember the way Lewis had looked at him, as though he could see into the depths of his soul.  
  
James’s greatest fear was he had given away the longing within and Lewis was looking for a way to let him down gently.  He could almost bear that, he thought, provided Lewis didn’t want him transferred as well.  Despite Lewis’s declaration of friendship, James knew every man had his limits and James wondered if he’d pushed Lewis past his.  Why else would Lewis have called him a dopey sod?   Oh, James was certain Lewis hadn’t meant for him to hear those words, but he had, and he couldn’t unhear them.  He took some solace in the fact more than a fortnight had passed and nothing had happened.  
  
He watched the front of the restaurant, referring to the newspaper clipping Laura had given him that morning.  It was a photo from the _Oxford Mail_ of Laura and his date-to-be taken at a recent gallery opening.  It was the only time Laura had given him an image, the first one she’d had, she’d said.  The face in the photo was clear enough for him to be able to identify her.  He checked the time.  
  
“James.”  
  
He spun around at the familiar and unexpected voice.  
  
“Sir?  What brings you here?  Do we have a case?”  They shouldn’t have been near the top of the rotation unless there’d been a serious crime spree since he’d left work that afternoon.  
  
“No.  All’s quiet.”  Lewis leant against the wall next to him.  “I, ah... Laura caught me just as I was leaving.  She, um, she said your date was called in to work.  She’s a bit embarrassed, Laura is, about how this has all gone and she asked me if I could tell you.”  
  
“I see.”  James stared back up the street for a moment before slumping back against the wall.  “Fancy a pint, sir?”  
  
“Told you before – shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach, sergeant.”  Lewis nodded towards the restaurant.  “Was the booking in your name?”  James nodded.  “It’s not easy to get in here; how’d you manage it?”  
  
“I didn’t, Laura organised it.  ‘Go all out to make an impression,’ she said.”  
  
“So how did Laura get a booking on short notice?”  
  
“Said the owner owed her a favour, and, no, I didn’t ask.  Sometimes with Laura it’s best not to know.”  
  
Lewis chuckled and nodded his agreement.  “It’s supposed to be very good, this place.”  
  
“Five star, I’ve been told.”  James wasn’t entirely bothered by his date’s cancellation, but he was curious as to where Lewis’s conversation was going.  Lewis took a deep breath.  
  
“Seems a pity to let the opportunity pass.  I could... stand in for your date.  If you like.  It’s been a while since I’ve been anywhere quite this fancy, but I’m pretty sure I can remember which fork to use and such, and I’ll pay me own way.”  
  
James turned his body towards Lewis, one shoulder still hard against the wall.  “Why?”  James was genuinely curious.  This was above and beyond the call of– _Oh, shit.  He’s going to use this as an opportunity to–_  
  
“Why not?”  Lewis looked at him openly.  
  
James saw a sincere offer from a friend – and something else.  He gaped like a goldfish for a second or two, as his thoughts raced.  He understood all too well that sexuality wasn’t always clearly defined, and just as he didn’t apply labels to himself, James resisted doing so to others.  He knew Lewis to be a man of honesty and integrity, one who wasn’t easily led or swayed, nor one to play with the emotions of others.  If he was interested in, attracted to James, then it was what it was.  There would be time later, James trusted, to learn more.  
  
“Look,” Lewis said softly, “I wasn’t really happy with Laura’s idea, you know that, and though it was your decision to go ahead, it’s not your fault the way things... unfolded.”  His fingers brushed James’s hand where it touched the wall and James barely suppressed a shiver.  “Look, I’m here, I’m presentable, I promise not to do a runner, and I can guarantee there won’t be a secret crush or sick pet along to interrupt the night.  What d’you say?”  
  
James had two choices: ‘Thanks but no thanks’ – even if the attraction was mutual it didn’t automatically make it the right decision, no matter how much James wanted it – or he could take this chance.  “I think we’d better get inside before they give the table to someone else.”  
  
As one, they pushed off the wall and made for the entrance.  James paused as they reached the door, lightly tugging on the elbow of Lewis’s jacket sleeve.  “You’re quite sure nothing’s going to interrupt?”  He forced what he hoped was a convincing grin.  There was safety behind humour.  
  
“Monty’s fighting fit and probably fast asleep in the middle of my bed right now.”  
  
“And what about your secret crushes?”  James bit the inside of his lip.  
  
Lewis suddenly couldn’t quite meet James’s eyes.  “Never you mind, you cheeky sod.”  He held the door open for James.  
.  
.  
.  
At first, Lewis wasn’t sure if he was relieved or surprised no-one took any notice of two men dining together.  By the time they’d ordered, and the first glass of wine was poured, he’d decided it didn’t really matter.  James’s initial nervousness had settled and he was relating the history of the building the restaurant was housed in.  Lewis had seen the moment James had allowed himself to hope and was now trying to determine how best to proceed.  There was one... detail he wanted to change.  He waited until James called him ‘sir’ again.  
  
“It’s Robbie James, or Robert, if you prefer.  I’d like it if you called me Robbie, though.  An’ not just while where here.”  James gazed at him steadily.  Lewis raised his glass to his lips.  “You don’t have to, if it–”  
  
“Robbie,” James whispered, closing his eyes.  “Robert.”  
  
Lewis sensed a difference and his heart begin to race.  Could something so small carry so much weight for James?  
  
“Robbie,” James said softly and firmly, opening his eyes and fixing them on Lewis’s.  
  
 _Yes, yes it could._  
  
They continued their meal, to all intents and purposes two friends enjoying a rare night out.  If they spoke a little quieter, or fingers brushed over skin more often than strictly necessary, it was nobody’s business but their own.  
  
Nothing had changed, and everything had changed.  
.  
.  
.  
Knowing parking would have been problematic, Laura had dropped Lewis near the restaurant on her way home.  James’s car was only a short walk away, and it wouldn’t have taken too long for James to drop Lewis back to the station for his car, if not for the bottle and a half of wine they’d drunk.  
  
James scanned the street for a taxi.  
  
“Nice night,” Lewis said quietly at his side.  “Can we walk for a bit?”  
  
James quickly weighed up the options.  He didn’t think it wise if they drank anymore, which eliminated heading for any of their preferred pubs, and their respective flats lay in opposite directions.  “Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”  
  
“I thought, maybe... my place is closest.  I bought some of that coffee you recommended.”  
  
They walked along, bumping shoulders and elbows, the silence between them comforting.  They weren’t the only ones enjoying the mild night and the footpaths were quite busy.  They turned a corner, and without warning left the crowds behind.  When Lewis slipped his hand into James’s, James didn’t miss a beat, giving Lewis’s fingers a gentle squeeze.  He felt a slight tremor run through Lewis.  James felt giddy.  He’d gone from fearing a transfer, and losing Lewis – Robbie – from his life, to...  whatever this was going to be.  What was it going to be?  Where to from here?  How far, how fast?  Technically, it was a first date, but they’d had years together already. ~~~~  
  
They reached Robbie’s road.  Robbie shivered.  “Is it just me, or has it got cold all of a sudden?”  
  
James didn’t think so, but there was a different question in Robbie’s voice.  “I, ah...”  James swallowed hard and slipped his arm around Robbie’s shoulders.  Robbie’s arm encircled his waist.  Perfectly in step, they arrived at Robbie’s door and James followed him inside.  
  
Lewis hung his jacket and held a hand out for James’s, slipping it onto a spare hanger.  
  
“Coffee?”  
  
“Please.”  
  
James watched Robbie.  His movements were careful, precise.  He was as nervous as James.  
  
“Robbie.”  Robbie turned to face James, leaning back against the worktop, and James closed the gap between them.  “Forgive me if I’m moving too fast,” James whispered as his hand cupped Robbie’s cheek.  
  
Robbie shook his head, a small, trembling movement.  “You’re all right,” he sighed on a breath, as he lifted his face to meet James’s lips.  
.  
.  
.  
James vaguely remembered moving to the couch.  It seemed one minute they were in the kitchen, and then when their lips parted he was straddled across Robbie’s lap.  Both were breathless.  James slipped off onto the couch and curled up at Robbie’s side.  He kept waiting to wake up, only the warmth of Robbie’s body against his and the fingers in his hair convincing him it wasn’t a dream.  
  
“Can I ask you something?” James murmured.  
  
“Mm hmm.”  Robbie’s lips brushed his forehead.  
  
“Did my date really have to work?”  
  
“Eh?”  
  
Reluctantly, James sat up so he could see Robbie’s face.  “Are we here, at this moment, because of... fate?”  
  
Robbie traced the line of James’s jaw with his finger tips.  James leant into the touch with a sigh.  “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it, pet.  Aye, she did have to work.  You can ask Laura.  When she told me what had...  I’d never have thought of doing anything as... direct as asking you on a date.  You’ve been, well, not skittish, but not quite yourself either, not since, well, you know.  I thought...  I didn’t know how you’d respond, whether or not you’d think I was taking the piss and get angry, but I thought... if it worked, I – we, I hoped – had everything to gain.”  
  
James leant forward and kissed him again.  When he broke the kiss he rested his head against Robbie’s shoulder, his lips brushing against Robbie’s neck.  
  
“When did you first know?  That you wanted... me.”  
  
Robbie pulled James closer.  “A while now, but I didn’t think you’d be interested in me.  Then when Laura started talking about setting you up, I could see what little chance I might have had slipping away.  I wanted to put her off until I could find a way of learning what you really wanted–”  
  
“And I went and put myself in her hands.”  
  
Robbie twisted himself and captured James’s mouth.  “You’re in my hands now, love,” he murmured.  
.  
.  
.  
A very loud, very disgruntled ‘miaow’ pulled them back to the here and now.  Monty was glaring at them from the coffee table.  
  
“You’re no romantic, furball,” Robbie grunted.  
  
James's fingers slipped inside Robbie’s unbuttoned shirt, bringing forth a soft groan.  “Perhaps you should feed him.”  
  
“He’s got a bowl dry food if he’s hungry, fussy sod.”  
  
James slid his hand down across Robbie’s ribs, smiling happily at the noises Robbie made as he did so.  
  
“If you give him something nicer to eat, we could always escape to the bedroom while he’s distracted and lock him out.  If you wanted to, that is.  I–”  James hastily added, stammering.  
  
Robbie silenced him with a kiss.  “I like the way you’re thinking.  C’mon.”  
  
Robbie got to his feet, pulling James up with him.  “Sooner he’s got his face in his bowl, the sooner we can...”  
  
With Monty occupied, James tugged Robbie towards the bedroom,  The frown on Robbie’s face stopped him in his tracks.  “Is something wrong?” he asked hesitantly.  
  
“You realise Laura’s going to be insufferable when she realises her idea’s borne fruit?”  
  
“I don’t know about you, but I’m happy to let her have her moment... eventually.  Right now, I want you all to myself.  Is that selfish?”  
  
“Not at all, pet.  Not. At. All.”

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in February, in the hope it would kick-start the writing process for me again. With deepest thanks to my BRs, who were also instrumental in encouraging me to continue with the story when it was nearly consigned to the Recycle Bin when I was feeling particularly low.
> 
> The original prompt was:  
> Hathaway goes on a series of increasingly awful blind dates and then tells Lewis about them. At first it's funny and then... it isn't. Lewis arranges to be Hathaway's next date and proceeds to show him what a proper date is like.


End file.
